First Apprentice

Chapter 18

Joel's office wards parted before us like curtains flung back from a window – layer after layer of wards, each more lethal than the last. Lightning crawled across my skin when Joel dragged me through the final ward. The hair on my arms raised up, and I silently thanked the Mothers I braided my hair last night. Otherwise, I'd look like one of those curly haired, yappy dogs Martha's friends carted around like they were babies.

I paused two steps inside.

Was it only last night that Grandfather teased me about Joel? It felt like another lifetime.

Warm brown eyes bored into mine as Joel squeezed my hand. "Are you okay?"

I cast about for an answer. No, I wasn't okay. I might never be okay. I killed people. Or maybe I helped Selim kill people.  Either way, I was a ten-day hike up a glacier away from okay. I'd also rather die than tell Joel what Grandfather teased me about. "My mind's empty," I said instead.

When he cocked his head askance, I pursued my lips and searched for a better explanation. "I've always heard them, but I can't right now."

"Do you mean all the gates or just the Central Keystone and the Dracon Gate?"

"Selim and Melantha. It's like there's a hole where he should be. Nowadays, she's never louder than a whisper unless," I trailed off. "It's hard to explain."

"I won't pretend I understand. I hear whatever gate I'm summoning. Sometimes when I'm the Well, I can hear them all. But I've never lived with them inside my head. I imagine they're both exhausted. Once they've recovered, you'll hear them again."

I shook my head. "Please don't lie. She won't recover. Unless someone feeds her an army within the next six months, she can't. As for Selim, the Central Keystone's attacked every few years. That's what? Seven, maybe eight attacks during my life? I've always heard him. If he gave the Dracon Gate his souls, not just magic..." I gave him a weak smile. "So this is your office?" I said before I revealed more of my fears. Despite how comfortable I felt around him, I didn't know him that well. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

My gaze swept over the room, noting the dust covers thrown over what might be a couch, two chairs, and a desk, the empty bookcases, and the peeling paint on the floorcloths. It took a moment before I realized the biggest difference between Joel's office and Terry's. No paperwork. There weren't even lumps under the dust covers where there might be a missing file. The worn knapsack leaning against the far wall was the only sign anyone used the office.

"Technically," he replied, "I don't work here. When Asha gave me the anchor points after Terry gained his mastery, I had my administrator box up everything and drop it in Terry's new office. I grabbed my pack and left within the hour. I haven't worked out of this building since."

"Yet, you have an office."

"Asha thought it would give folks the wrong impression if I didn't. If Asha decided it, Terry won't change it."

I filed the warning away. After living with Endellion and Uncle Manfred, I knew how to work around daes and their quirks. "And the wards?"

"When I'm on world, I sleep here. Maintaining a residence here like Mitchel did is a waste of resources, and I don't trust the wards around the guest quarters."

I hummed under my breath. Should I trust him? If yes, how much? Joel knew about my subplanes. Grandfather didn't need to tell him. When I left him standing in Grandfather's study with my bracelet, I gave him all the proof he needed. Going from a storage bracelet to an inhabitable subplane wasn't a huge leap. All the seals required to make my subplanes inhabitable were invented before Endellion was born. They weren't perfected until after the First Clan War, but they did exist.

However, intellectually knowing inhabitable subplanes might be possible wasn't the same as inviting him inside my den. But everything was already set up inside, I told myself. I could set Joel up in the corner, throw up the opaque ward around my tub, and soak away my aches while I eavesdropped.

Was it eavesdropping if Terry asked for the seals?

A scalding hot bath, clean clothes, food I knew wasn't poisoned, and my own bed versus camping out on Joel's floor while he listened in on a conversation that could easily take all night. The listeners I gave Terry were only half the equation. Without their mates, the seals were almost impossible to decode. Or so Endellion said. When it came to reverse engineering other people's hard work, she was the chief.

Decision made.

Magic spun off my fingertips, dipped inside the seal closest to my inner wrist bone, and tugged. Four fist-sized basalt stones popped out and hovered over the floor. I nudged them until they were each shoulder-width apart and arrayed in a square then set them down.

Joel's breath hitched. "Is that," he paused and licked his lips. "When Mitchel said you built a study, I pictured a travel desk and a couple of bookcases packed inside your bracelet. You actually built an inhabitable subplane."

I nodded. "You may want to grab a change of clothes."

"Dracon don't invite non-kin inside their dens. I've known mated couples who won't allow their mate inside their den. Are you sure?"

I placed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have said it. Endellion's only been inside once, and Uncle Manfred a handful of times. He's second on the wards, just in case."

"Mitchel?"

"Xhian advised against it." I closed my eyes and tried to push aside that awful day two years ago when Endellion fetched me from the conservatory. Grandfather lost his balance on the stairs and fell. Xhian did his best, but Grandfather's magic didn't respond the way it should. His aging body was catching up with him, stealing his magic bit by bit until he breathed his last. I took a deep breath and forced my eyes open.

Joel's tight mouth said everything. He knew. We all knew. No one said it. No one ever would. This was the natural course.

A navy blue rope flew from Joel's fingertips, wrapped itself around the pack, and dragged it across the room. He snagged a strap and slung it over his shoulder as if it weighed less than a down pillow. Then he reached for my hand. "I'd be honored," he said.

I twined my fingers with his and stepped inside the cubes. Darkness enveloped me followed by a blinding light as I drew him inside.